


If I Could Fly

by bovaria



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, F/M, Fluff, Soulmate-Identifying Timers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-25
Updated: 2016-01-25
Packaged: 2018-05-16 04:29:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,598
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5814184
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bovaria/pseuds/bovaria
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The timer on your wrist is starting to run out and you’re in the middle of nowhere. Dean refuses to move himself from the bunker in order to not meet his other half. But destiny always wins these battles.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Dean never knew how much he would depend on time, how his entire life could dangle on the counting down of days, hours, minutes, and seconds. Yet every single time he recalled the countdown, he’d look to the inside of his wrist and it would never disappoint him. Time was running out and Dean’s nerves were running higher.

Sam’s own timer had stopped working ten years ago, when he had first set eyes on Jessica Moore. They had been made for each other and Dean could only hold his brother as Sam cried out his grief at losing his other half. Sam’s stopwatch never reset itself, time ceased to exist for it.

However, Dean’s continue to count every second, every breath, and every heartbeat he hadn’t met _her_. He’d have brief encounter with random women at bars, show them a great time, but walk away in the end. Time would still be ticking away and Dean knew he had yet to find her. And that caused temporary relief for him, knowing he was far away from her and he’d keep the danger at bay.

Until one day, he looked into his wrist and realized he only had an hour left. How could he have missed the days passing by just like that?

He rubbed his thumb against the inside of his wrist, disbelief in his eyes as time unfailingly passed. Sam approached with a newspaper in hand and began speaking, soon noticing that Dean was not listening to a word he was saying.

“Hey, man, everything alright?” Sam placed a hand on his shoulder, squeezing it to catch Dean’s attention.

“Y-yeah, everything—” Dean swallowed, brows furrowed as he tapped the numbers with his forefinger.

“Dean, you have an hour left,” Sam gasped.

“We’re in the middle of a case,” Dean said, laughing at the idiocy of it all. “Knowing _our_ luck, she’d end up being the monster, Sammy.”

“Hey, don’t say that,” Sam shook his head, looking grieved over what his brother was about to go through. He still remembered setting eyes on Jess for the first time. His world tilted on its axis and she became the center of its gravity. The pain that he had felt as he lost her was unbearable, and the only reason he was still alive was because of his brother. He now did everything for Dean and Dean was soon going to be meeting his own piece of heaven.

“Sammy, since when does anything we do result in happy endings?” Dean scoffed. “Maybe if I stay in here, I won’t meet her,” he glanced around the bunker hoping it’d do its job of protecting him, of protecting her from him. Dean was a hunter, he was not meant to love anyone.

“That can’t happen,” Sam cringed and shook his head. “Um, we have a new case, Dean.”

“Well, can’t you solve it yourself?” Dean questioned, voice strained. “Call in other hunters, anything? I’m not moving from here, Sam.”

“I’ll see what I can do,” Sam sighed, knowing his brother too well to know that nothing was going to move Dean from the bunker. Nonetheless, Sam knew better than to toy with fate like that. Sure, they were the Winchesters, notorious for twisting destiny and creating their own, but soulmates… Sam wasn’t sure Dean could get out of this one so easily.

Sam left the room and Dean was once again alone with his thoughts. The timer was now at fifty minutes and Dean had no plans to leave the chair he was sitting in. Sam could either hunt solo or wait for the hour to be over. There was no other way.

“Alright, Nate can help me out with the case,” Sam stepped in fifteen minutes later and now there were only thirty-five minutes left on Dean’s wrist. “I’m gonna get going. Stay put, man,” he clapped Dean’s back before retreating from the bunker. Dean clenched his hands into fists and hoped time could just run out already.

* * *

Your knuckles were white, fingers almost numb as you gripped the steering wheel tightly. Your eyes flickered nervously towards the inside of your wrist. You had twenty minutes left and in the middle of nowhere. How could this be? You had recklessly taken this road trip in faith that you’d be at your friend’s house by nightfall and meeting your soulmate while having dinner out in the town or something along those lines. But that wasn’t the case. Murphy’s Law basically dictated your life, always had and always would.  You laughed at the insanity of it all and wished you would have stayed put in your own hometown.

Everywhere you glanced, there were only trees, so dense that you knew it was impossible your soulmate would be in the forest. Unless he was some sort of werewolf. You snorted at the thought of that.

There was suddenly a pathway in the middle of the thick trees and you swerved to the right, driving right into it. You didn’t know where it’d take you but you felt a pull to follow its direction. The minutes ticked by and the forest continued. You groaned out loud, turning off your car’s radio. Frustration was starting to make your nerves edgy and you pressed the gas pedal with more force. You had five minutes left.

Green trees, the sound of a dirt road under your car’s tires, the harshness of your breathing. Your world had become a race against time and you were dreading the ending of these five minutes that had quickly turned to four.

With three minutes to go and you began to hum nervously. What had you gotten yourself into when you pulled into the forest like that? Nothing was bound to be out here. You were pretty sure that you were miles deep inside it… And there it was…

A concrete building stood out in the middle of the forest, the only man-made structure for miles. You sighed in relief and pulled up to the front of it, hoping there was someone there despite the lack of cars outside.

You were about to primp yourself up in front of the mirror when you realized that you only had a minute left. He was your soulmate, he was going to love you despite you looking presentable or not. With a deep breath, you climbed out of your car and began to descend the stairs that took you to the front doors.

* * *

Dean’s ears perked up at the sound of an engine being turned off. Had Sammy returned so soon? He shook his head and shut his eyes. That wasn’t Baby’s engine, he knew her too well. That was another car. Someone was in front of the bunker and his timer displayed twenty seconds.

* * *

You gave yourself a mentally uplifting speech. It was going to be fine, he was going to be perfectly normal. Of course, why else would he live in the middle of the forest in some building that looked like it had belonged to some government organization? You internally groaned but rose your hand to knock on the door, your eyes never missing the numbers disappearing. There were now only ten seconds left.

* * *

Three knocks to the door. Dean was startled by the sound, despite having climbed up the stairs and having the dreaded feeling that whoever was behind that door would be the one he’d come to love more than himself. Inhaling deeply, Dean’s hand reached out and unlocked the bolts. His wrist only showed five seconds.

* * *

The doors were being unlocked. Time felt like an eternity and you held your breath. What did he look like? What was he going to be like?

* * *

Dean knew once he opened that door, his life would be changed forever. He didn’t know if he was prepared for this, for what was being laid out in front of him.

Four…

Three…

Two…

One…

Green eyes met your own and you exhaled the breath you had been holding in. He smiled and you felt your heartbeat skyrocket.

“Hi,” you said, in the softest of voices that you berated yourself for. He probably hadn’t even heard you.

“Hey,” he said, voice deep and sending a jolt of excitement right into your stomach, butterflies erupting everywhere.


	2. Chapter 2

Dean was careful, _so_ careful in not touching you as he stepped aside and let you in. You nervously glanced down at your wrist and there they were: the zeroes that would never change for the rest of your life. You had met him and he was so handsome, beautiful even. You couldn’t look him straight in the eye now, you were convinced that if you did, you’d either blab something extremely embarrassing or just turn into a puddle of goo. He was all muscle and hard edges, but the first look into his eyes and you had known there was more than meets the eye with this man than what others first saw.

“I-I’m Dean,” he spoke, a jolt of exhilaration ran through your limbs at the sound of his voice.

You cleared your throat before answering him. “Y/N,” you followed him down the stairs, looking around in awe.

Dean smiled softly as you stared at everything unfolding before you. The bunker was not something you came by on a normal day and he paused in the middle of the war-room, allowing you to take it all in.

“P-please tell me you’re not some sort of psycho,” you murmured, realizing too late that you had spoken out loud.

Dean pulled his head back and laughed heartily, hand on his chest. You found that it was one of your favorite sounds and you wanted to hear it more often. “No,” he said after regaining his breath. “Um, let’s sit down? I’ll tell you everything.”

Dean didn’t know what compelled him to do so, but his hand reached out for you, palm outstretched for yours to fall upon it. The eagerness to touch you for the first time startled Dean and he never thought he’d desire someone so much with just a touch of their hand. But your skin met his and Dean was a lost case.

He maneuvered your hands in such a way that he was soon interlacing his fingers with yours. You inhaled sharply at the contact and finally looked up and into his eyes.

“L-lead the way,” you said in a weak voice, knees threatening to buckle under his stare.

It took a few moments for his eyes to part from yours, but you found it easier to breathe when you weren’t looking straight into them. He pulled you with him towards another room. There were books lining the walls and two wooden tables right in the middle. The place looked like a bunker from the 40s and you gawped at it until Dean led you to a chair, motioning for you to take a seat.

“So,” you leaned forward as he sat across from you. “Explain to me the whole ‘I’m not a crazy person’ business.”

“I hunt monsters,” he said simply. Your eyes widened and you could only stare at him.

“What?”

“My brother, Sam, and I,” Dean smiled at your expression, looking down at his hands. “We are what they call hunters. We hunt monsters, from vampires, to werewolves, djinns, demons, and angels. We have seen, _and killed_ , it all.”

You’d usually scoff at such a statement. These were urban legends he was talking about, the stuff of fantasy that people loved to write and go on about. Yet you knew Dean wasn’t lying to you. You couldn’t exactly pinpoint what told you that he was telling the truth, but you found yourself believing him.

“Okay,” you drawled out. “Um, how did you end up hunting these things? How do you even find them?”

“Well, after doing this my entire life,” he said with a soft smile. “I have learned to see the telltale signs of a monster plaguing a town, or a demon causing havoc, etcetera,” he waved his hand.

“So, everything is real,” you said simply.

“And more,” he shook his head.

“How did you end up hunting?”

“My mom was killed when I was four years old,” Dean’s eyes were downcast as he spoke. “She was killed by a demon the night my brother turned six months. The demon had made a deal with her that he’d one day be back and he was there that night. My mom tried to interfere but he killed her, burned her to the ceiling. It was only my dad, brother, and I.”

“Dean,” you whispered in a soft voice, reaching out for his hand. Once again, he laced your fingers through his and gave you a tiny smile.

“My dad became obsessed over hunting this demon down,” Dean shook his head. “So, Sammy and I grew up in motels and jumping from town to town. All the while, my dad would hunt down things that went bump in the dark and by the time I was ten, I had killed my own share of monsters.”

You remained quiet, opting to just squeeze Dean’s hand in comfort as he continued to speak.

“It’s the only life I’ve known, Y/N,” Dean said quietly.

“And that’s not your fault,” you shrugged, getting on your feet and holding out your hands. Dean followed your lead and got up from his chair, placing his much-larger hands on yours. Your thumbs rubbed the calloused skin of his palm as you looked up at him, soft smile playing on your lips.

“I didn’t want to go anywhere today,” Dean blurted. You tilted your head and furrowed your brow. “I wanted to stay here and have my timer run out, not have met you.”

The pain was like a sharp smack to your face, hurt overcoming your expression. “What?”

“My life is dangerous, Y/N,” Dean now knew what Sam had described about what he felt when he had met Jess. Dean’s world had completely shifted, he was now looking down at the one person that anchored his existence. “B-but,” he swallowed thickly as he looked into your eyes. “I can’t bring myself to tell you to leave.”

“Then don’t,” you laughed softly. One of your hands rose to cup his jaw, an innocent, comforting touch that turned to fire on Dean’s skin.

Before either of you were aware of it, Dean’s arms were hoisting you up in the air as his mouth ravaged yours in a passionate kiss you had only read about in books. You huffed as he set you down on the table, laughing along with his own chuckle.

You got lost in his kisses, in his touch and caresses. His fingers igniting a hunger for him as they explored your skin, got to know your body. Your own hands slid across muscles, hardened by years of hunting, becoming acquainted with the one you had been made for.

Dean pulled away from your lips and you both gasped simultaneously. Air had become a secondary necessity and all you needed, wanted, desired, was Dean. He thumbed your cheekbone as he looked down at you, memorizing every one of your features.

“I’ll have you know that I don’t usually kiss men minutes after meeting them,” you winked.

“Well, usually those men aren’t your soulmates are they?” Dean was suddenly possessed by jealousy at the thought of you in the arms of others. You were his, just like every fiber of his being, his soul, his heart and mind, was yours. Dean was completely yours and he was flabbergasted to find that the thought didn’t scare him at all. Instead, exhilaration overwhelmed him and he couldn’t wait to get to know you more.

You smiled softly at him, shaking your head. “No, you are my only one, Dean.” You loved saying his name. You finally had a name and a face to go with the time that had now ran out on your wrist. You felt completed and light as a feather.

“So,” Dean kissed your nose before pulling slightly away. His hands were now settled on your thighs, squeezing the flesh as he pulled you closer to him. “Tell me about yourself. Everything you can think of.”

In his arms, with Dean’s scent and presence cocooning you protectively, you told him anything and everything that came up in your mind. From your earliest memories to the foods that you detested, your first kiss and the first time your parents told you what the timer on your wrist meant. How had you had become so excited at the thought of having what they had, having someone to call your own.

Dean listened intently, his green orbs never leaving yours. He’d smile when you told a funny story and convey his concern as you revealed to him your darkest secrets.

You don’t know what compelled you to, but you laid everything out for him to see. From things you swore you’d never tell anyone, to memories that still made you cringe, Dean knew them by the time you finished talking.

You didn’t feel vulnerable, you felt as if an extension of yourself now knew you the way he should. Once you concluded your final story, Dean broke into an ear-splitting grin. “You’re fucking fascinating, sweetheart,” he declared.

“You’re required to say that,” you rolled your eyes, leaning your cheek on his shoulder.

“True, but I mean it,” he smiled down at you, sliding his jaw against your cheekbone and his scruff gently scraped against your skin. You giggled at the sensation and he pulled you closer to himself. He’d do anything to protect you, to love you, to make sure you would be happy with him.


	3. Chapter 3

Sam came back from the hunt worried. Dean hadn’t answered his phone and Sam was curious as to what had happened with his timer. His eyes flitted to his wrist as he opened the entrance to the bunker and he sighed to himself. His survival without a soulmate was a mystery. He had done extensive research as to how he had managed to live so long without Jess and had emerged fruitless in his search. Sam had learned to ignore the zeroes on his timer and constructed a wall around the pain and loss of Jess, those were emotions he had long ago decided to ignore.

He cleared his throat and shook his head. He wasn’t about to delve into his past like that, there were other things to worry about. Like what had Dean done in order to not encounter his soulmate? Curiosity reigned over every other emotion in Sam’s mind and he stepped into the bunker, eyes surveying everything.

He spotted a handbag he didn’t recognize on the tabletop and immediately knew. Dean’s soulmate was in the bunker with him.

“Dean?” Sam walked across the library and into the hallway that took to the bedrooms. “I’m back from the hunt, man. Everything alright?”

There was no answer, prompting Sam to peek into Dean’s bedroom, albeit reluctantly. He sighed in relief as he saw that Dean had all of his clothes on. His eyes flitted to your form and he froze. You were the one.

Dean looked peaceful, his body wrapped around yours as you slept with your head on his chest. You were a tangle of limbs and blissful sleeping, having gone to sleep after eating lunch and talking to each other about anything and everything that came to your minds. Sam smiled softly as he took the both of you in, quite excited about getting to know you.

Sam knew the effects of meeting your soulmate. When he had met Jess, he had wanted to spend every waking moment with her and his life drastically changed to make room for hers. Dean was a changed man and Sam couldn’t help but to feel envious of him.

“S-Sam?” Dean’s eyelids fluttered and his brow furrowed as he took Sam in, standing by the bed with a melancholic expression etched on his face.

“D-Dean, hey,” Sam cleared his throat, giving him a thin smile. “Guess you found her, huh?”

Dean nodded, giving Sam a crooked, elated smile before turning his head to look down at you. He stroked his thumb against your cheekbone, marveling at you as he spoke. “She came to the bunker. She told me it was a pull she felt and she found me without really looking for me. It was a little weird, man.”

“When it comes to soulmates, it’s always weird,” Sam said, his eyes focused on you. You were breathtakingly gorgeous, even he had to admit it. And it seemed that you already had Dean wrapped around your finger.

“She’s amazing, Sammy,” Dean pulled you closed, kissing your temple and grinning as you nuzzled deeper into his embrace.

“Does she know about us hunting?” Sam asked carefully.

“She knows everything.”

“Everything?”

“I held nothing back from her,” Dean answered honestly. “I couldn’t.”

“Yeah, I know the feeling,” Sam chuckled.

“I can’t wait for you to get to know her. I know the two of you will get along,” Dean smiled widely at this. “You both are the biggest bookworms, and she’s a geek, just like you.”

“Who’d have thought?” Sam snorted before placing his hand on Dean’s shoulder. “Alright, bro, I’m going to rest, I’ll see you later.”

“Alright, Sammy,” Dean nodded his head. He turned back towards you and Sam knew that he was gone. He had been the exact same the first time Jess slept in his arms. He held her as close as he physically could and spent his time looking at her, memorizing her features and taking her all in.

Sam walked into his bedroom in a haze, slipping into comfortable sweatpants before getting into bed. He dreamed of Jess.

* * *

You woke up to the sound of Dean’s breathing in your ear. For a second, you didn’t recognize your surroundings nor Dean, but everything came flooding in and you couldn’t help yourself. Your arms wrapped around his neck and you pulled him close, peppering his face with kisses that soon had him waking up.

He laughed as he realized how you had roused him, tilting your chin up with his fingers to bring your lips to his. The kiss was deep as your lips slid against his, your body vibrating with excitement as he stroked his tongue against your lower lip. Your mouth was soon parting to allow him access and Dean’s tongue explored eagerly as his hands wrapped around your hips and moved you to straddle him.

Your fingers stroked the skin that appeared as Dean’s shirt rode up, teasingly fluttering about until Dean pulled away from you to yank off the clothing. You followed suit and soon your own top had joined his on the floor.

Dean’s eyes were half-lidded as you ducked your head to press kisses down his neck, his skin prickling at the sensation. His fingers busied themselves with your bra and soon he was tossing that behind you.

Your moan made Dean twitch in his pants, his pelvis hunching up to press against your groin as he took your naked torso in. His hands cupped your breasts, calloused palms caressing the skin before his thumbs stroked against your nipples. You arched your back towards him, pushing yourself closer to him as your hand reached back to squeeze him through his pants.

Your kisses were filled with whimpers and breathless pants as your hands traveled everywhere, getting to know one another. Dean was quick to learn where to touch that made you shake in pleasure and you stroked his length in a way that had him soon jerking his hips in the air and coming on your palm.

He shot you an apologetic glance, to which you responded with a searing kiss that had Dean hoisting you off his hips and flipping you around. He laid you on your back as he hovered above you, reaching to interlace your fingers with his. You cringed as Dean made to take your come-covered hand, but he hastily cleaned you off with the boxers he had recently slid off his legs. Flinging the dirty clothing off the mattress, Dean began to pepper your chest with kisses.

His mouth was hot and wet around your nipples and you pulled your head back in pleasure. Dean let go of one of your hands to cup one breast, squeezing gently before his hand moved downwards. He cupped your heat through your panties, having gotten you rid of your jeans by now, and groaned at the feel of how wet you were.

His fingers deftly moved the cloth to one side and stroked through your slick folds. Dean pulled his mouth away from your skin as he sunk in a finger into your entrance. He watched you, entranced by your gasp and the way you writhed under him. You dug your nails into the flesh of his shoulder as he flicked his thumb against your clit.

You came with a moan of his name, the sound stiffening Dean’s half-hard length all the way. He kissed your stomach as you came down from your high, smiling up at you as you regained your breath. You stroked fingers through his hair, pulling him up to press a deep, gentle kiss into his lips.

His arms came up to cocoon your head as his hips positioned themselves between your legs. Your hand wrapped around his cock and directed him to your sensitive entrance. You inhaled sharply as he entered you, his girth deliciously filling you as he moved forward slowly.

Dean’s eyes shut in pleasure and all you could see was his beauty. He was stunning and you knew that he’d be overwhelming you for years to come. He stopped moved once you had taken him to the hilt, surveying your reaction as a cue to when he’d be able to begin thrusting.

You nodded your head, biting his lower lip and whimpering his name, accompanied with a demand to move. Dean stroked his fingers through your hair as he thrust, every jerk in a different angle until he found your sweet spot. Upon finding it, he began to ruthlessly pound into it.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered once he pulled away from your lips to look down at you. Your lips curved into a wide smile as you reciprocated the sentence before pulling your head back and groaning out his name.

Dean held you close as you reached your peak, breathing out his pleasure into the skin of your neck as he came a few minutes after you. You squeezed your legs around his pelvis as you felt him pulse into you, body shivering at the feeling.

He slowly pulled out of you and was about to pull you into his arms when your stomach growled. You blushed as he laughed, head pulled back in mirth as he got off the mattress and held out his hand for you to take.

“What do you say we go out for dinner, sweetheart?” he questioned. “I want you to meet my brother.”

“Okay,” you said as you accepted his hand, letting him pull you up and on your feet. Dean’s arm enveloped your waist and pressed you against his firm body. He cupped your jaw with his free hand and tilted your head up to press a soft kiss to your lips.

“I don’t think I’ll ever grow tired of kissing you,” he admitted quietly.

“You’re not the only one,” you responded, pulling away to begin looking for your scattered clothes.


End file.
